


Overkill Does Not Get a Cat

by cunzy4



Series: Tick Fics [3]
Category: The Tick (TV 2017)
Genre: DB is pleased, Dot is there, Gen, I wasn't paying attention and this wrote itself, Overkill gets a cat, i was supposed to be writing something else, oh well, slight Overkill/Dot shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cunzy4/pseuds/cunzy4
Summary: Overkill adopts a cat.Specifically, a cat adopts him without his permission.
Relationships: Dangerboat & Overkill (The Tick 2017)
Series: Tick Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1431067
Comments: 14
Kudos: 14





	Overkill Does Not Get a Cat

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this a long time ago, but due to personal cat-related reasons I put this one on hold until I was ready to get back to it.

Overkill stood over the corpses of the two thugs he had just brutally murdered in an alley, wiping his gloves clean of viscera, when he suddenly became aware that he was being watched. Hands dropping to the swords at his sides, he scanned the alley for any potential attackers. 

Two glowing eyes watched him silently from a ledge above him.

“Just a cat,” Overkill muttered to himself, sheathing his swords. After staring it down to establish dominance, he turned and briskly strode out of the alley.

He was halfway down the block when he sensed the watching presence again. Warily, he turned to see the same cat sitting on a trash can, still staring at him. Overkill gave the cat a closer inspection to make sure it wasn’t a cyborg attack cat or a hyper-realistic robot bent on human destruction or something equally ridiculous.

Nope. Just a cat.

“Shoo,” said Overkill.

“Meow,” said the cat.

With that, Overkill returned to the docks and put the cat out of his mind.

“Good evening, Overkill,” Dangerboat greeted him cheerfully. “Did you have a productive day?”

“More or less,” Overkill said as he stripped off his mask and gloves. “I killed two people.”

“You know the Tick doesn’t want you to do that,” Dangerboat chided. “He saved your life and wished it-”

“Yes, I know,” Overkill said irritably. “But Dot un-wished it, and she’s saved my life way more times than Tick has.”

Dangerboat’s console blinked and beeped merrily. “She’s nice that way, isn’t she? She likes saving people. She’s a good medic. She’s pretty too. Have you noticed?”

“No,” Overkill said flatly, killing the conversation as effectively as he’d killed the thugs in the alley. He pulled a microwavable dinner from the mini-fridge and kicked his feet up on the center console while he waited for it to cook.

“Hey! Boots off the table!” Dangerboat yelled. “I have to live here, you know!”

“I live here too,” Overkill grunted as he retrieved the food and started shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Yes, but unlike you, I can’t just pack up and leave whenever I want,” Dangerboat said irritably. “Your dirty boots on my console do the same to me as that cheap trashy food does to you.”

“Can the whining, DB,” Overkill said. “It’s not my fault-” 

He stopped when Dangerboat gasped. “Oh, would you look at that!” he said delightedly. “Did you bring a friend home?”

“Did I what?” Overkill dropped his boots from the table, looking around the boat for Dot or the Tick or anyone who might have come in without his notice. When he looked back to the table, a black cat was sitting there like it owned the place, licking his mashed potatoes.

“Hey! Off!” Overkill waved his arms at the cat, who ignored him and kept eating. “That’s my dinner, you mangy cat!”

“Oh, she is just the cutest thing!” Dangerboat cooed. “Can we keep her?”

“No!” Overkill scooped up the cat, who yowled in protest, and carried it out the door at arm’s length and set it on the dock.

“Aww,” Dangerboad said dejectedly. 

Overkill turned around, and the cat was already back on the table.

“Wha- how did it do that?” Overkill said, shocked and offended that a simple cat’s infiltration abilities exceeded his own.

Dangerboat hummed negatively. “I don’t know. I wasn’t watching.”

“How were you not watching? You have cameras literally everywhere.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m paying attention all the time,” Dangerboat said petulantly. “I have a life too, you know. I’ve been remixing my new theme song, not that you asked to hear it.”

“Whatever. Just… help me get rid of this stupid thing.” Overkill gestured to the cat.

“Can’t we keep it?”

“No, we can’t keep it! It’s a feral animal!” Overkill gestured at the cat for emphasis, and it used the opportunity to rub against his fingers.

He snatched his hand back. “We’re not keeping it and that’s final.”

* * *

When Overkill woke up the next morning, he was greeted by a pair of glowing green eyes an inch from his face. Reflexively, he shouted in alarm and threw an arm out, sending the intruder flying across the room. The offending animal hissed and disappeared beneath the console.

“DB, what is that thing still doing here?” Overkill growled. “I thought we got rid of it last night.”

Before going to bed, he had made certain to seal all the hatches and windows after tossing the cat back on the dock. He’d considered throwing it into the water, but he was a vigilante, not a hooligan.

“Oh, I let her back in,” Dangerboat said innocently. If he’d had a face, it would have been grinning. “I just couldn’t stand seeing such a cute little thing alone on the dock.”

“Dammit, Dangerboat, we can’t keep a feral animal onboard!” Overkill sharled. Then he spotted a half-eaten can of Fo-Ham on the console. “And you fed it? It’ll never stop coming back now!”

“You really think so? I’ve always wanted a pet!” Dangerboat beeped and whistled merrily.

Overkill pressed a hand against his forehead, trying to push back a rising headache through sheer force of will. “I thought we had this conversation last night.”

“I feel like we need to revisit this topic,” Dangerboat said. “You don’t make all the rules, you know. I live here too.”

“Yes, but who’s going to end up cleaning up after it? You don’t have hands.”

Dangerboat huffed indignantly. “That may be true, but your words are still hurtful.”

“You know what? I’m leaving.” Overkill threw on his leather jacket and boots. “And I’m not coming back until that thing is gone.”

“And when you come back, you’d better apologize to both of us!” Dangerboat shouted at him as he left.

* * *

Just as Overkill raised his fist to knock, the door swung open.

“Hey,” Dot greeted him, rubbing her eyes. Her blonde hair was a mess. “You’re up early.”

Overkill half smiled, both surprised and impressed. “Did you sense me coming?” 

Dot rolled her eyes. “No, Dangerboat called me to rant about your “poor manners.” He just hung up ten seconds ago. I assume you’re here to do the same thing?”

“No.” A pause. “Yes.”

Dot opened the door wider. “Well, come in then. I haven’t made breakfast yet, but help yourself to-”

By the time she turned around, Overkill already had a bottle in his hand and was chugging it down.

“...that,” Dot finished.

Overkill sighed heavily, flopping onto her couch and nearly spilling the rest of the bottle.

“Why is it that you two always complain about each other to me?” Dot asked, joining him on the couch and grabbing the bottle from his hand. “You’re both grown-ups, stop acting like children.”

“ _ I’m  _ a grown-up, he’s a sentient boat with serious issues,” Overkill grumbled.

“Oh, and you  _ don’t  _ have issues?” Dot smirked at him.

“Shut up. My issues are different.”

“What’s wrong with having a cat anyway?” Dot asked. “I always wanted one, but my mom’s allergic.”

“I’m not allergic, I’m just… unfriendly. I don’t like animals and they don’t like me.”

Dot sipped from the bottle, unimpressed. “Obviously it hates you, since it keeps coming back.”

Overkill humphed. “It can’t just keep following me around and expect me to be fine with that.”

“It’s a cat. It’s not thinking anything except ‘meow’.”

“You haven’t seen its devious little eyes,” Overkill warned. “It’s clearly got plans.”

“Clearly,” Dot repeated sarcastically. “It’s plotting to take over the world. Look out, we’ve got a new Terror on our hands. Quick, someone alert AEGIS and sound the alarm!”

“Stop mocking me.”

“Fine.” She nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Now, do you want breakfast or are you just planning to drink all day?”

“Who says I can’t do both?”

Dot snorted. “You vigilantes have it so easy. Unlike you, I have a real job, and if I get drunk in the morning, people will die.”

“Excuse you, I’ve gone legit again. I’m not a loose cannon anymore.” Overkill reclaimed the bottle and took another swig, mostly out of spite.

“Oh, and Daddy Rathbone doesn’t mind you drinking and making a nuisance of yourself?”

“Don’t call him that.”

Dot laughed. “I doubt anyone can stop you from loose cannoning. Do you want pancakes?”

“Yes, please.”

* * *

After a nice breakfast, an impromptu sparring session, and a drink shared on the couch, Dot finally had to leave for work. Overkill considered breaking into Arthur’s place, but decided he’d been sociable enough for one day. He stalked through dark alleys for a while, vaguely spoiling for a fight with the rabble that always populated the area, but eventually gave up and returned to Dangerboat in the early afternoon.

“Oh hello, Overkill,” Dangerboat greeted him, cheerful as ever. “How has your day been?”

Overkill grunted in response.

“You know, you really should work on your manners,” Dangerboat scolded. “I’m used to your uncivilized attitude, but you spend time in polite company now, you know.”

“I can be polite if I want to,” Overkill grumbled, kicking his boots up on the central console. “And I don’t want to. Is that menace gone yet?”

His question was answered by a high pitched  _ meow  _ and a sudden lap full of black fur. 

“DB, I told you to get it out of here!” Overkill growled, shoving the cat off his lap. 

“Oh, I think the poor thing is hungry,” Dangerboat fretted, ignoring Overkill completely. “Did you go shopping for any cat food?”

“Why would I buy food for an animal I want to get rid of?” Overkill glared at Dangerboat’s central camera, where he knew the boat was watching. He could see the lens focusing as the boat glared back.

He didn’t know how it was possible to lose a staring contest to a sentient boat with no proper eyes to speak of, but Overkill finally gave up and pulled a can of Fo-Ham out of the fridge.

“That’s not healthy for cats,” Dangerboat said as Overkill opened the can and set it on the floor, allowing the cat to sniff at the offering.

“If it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for that thing.” Overkill ignored the boat’s retort about his own eating habits as the cat turned up its nose. “Come on, you little fleabag, just eat it. You’re hungry, aren’t you? You’ve been here all day.” He nudged the can with his foot, but the cat ignored it and started licking itself.

Overkill wasn’t sure how he’d managed to lose two arguments in as many minutes, but he somehow found himself boarding Dangerboat a short while later with his arms full of shopping bags full of cat food, litter, and assorted toys and scratching posts.

“This does not mean anything,” he told both the cat and Dangerboat sternly. “We are  _ not  _ keeping her.”

**Author's Note:**

> They kept her.


End file.
